


Being Human

by vibekes



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Jasico - Freeform, Multi, Vampire AU, Werewolf AU, being human AU, ghost au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibekes/pseuds/vibekes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Nico have barely settled down in their new apartment when they meet a ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drafty Windows and Broken Mugs

**Author's Note:**

> Being Human (UK) AU. Honestly did this on a whim, in the moment. Loved the series;; broke my heart! ongoing series here;; will be inspired by episodes but I promise it won't get as dumb as it did in the end IRL and maybe everyone won't die.

Settling into the apartment was fine until the ghost showed up. After unpacking everything, multiple cups of tea and coffee had been made and left to go cold. The microwave kept dying. The couch kept moving to the othet side of the living space at night. Jason or Nico ever _saw_ the ghost-- but they knew that it was there.

Nico examined the floral wallpaper and considered whether or not the flat owner would care if he tore it down and repainted the walls. He pressed his fist to his mouth, eyes tracing over the pattern when he heard a door from upstairs open with a subtle creak. A soft breeze caressed his face as he stepped over the whining wood to peer up the flight. That would have been normal and all if Jason was home, but he wasn't. He was at the store. There was no explanation, no denying it: the ghost was fucking around again.

  
He clambered up the steps with even more creaking if possible, (along with a teeny living space, the place was old as balls) and looked into all the rooms, but there was nothing. That wasn't right. Maybe the windows were drafty; he checked, and not much of a surprise, they were. That explained it. Just a heavier wind that blew the already partially opened door of one of the rooms.

It wasn't until later, when Jason was home, that he mentioned what had happened. Meanwhile, Nico expressed how ugly he thought the wallpaper looked.

  
"The colors will all clash," he noted. "It's too busy." His arms crossed over his chest. Jason took a bite from a sandwich, shrugging.

"No it's not." a higher voice remarked. Nico and Jason looked at each other. Then they turned, and there she stood, iridescent eyes, dense curly hair and a perfectly arched eyebrow. Nico knew she was a ghost; she wouldn't be the first nor the last he'd meet.

  
For two seconds they stood there in silence, surprised, to say the least. Nico pushed the urge to argue down into his chest and stepped forward. "Uh, hey," he said. "Who are you?"

  
The ghost reflected their surprise. "You know what I am?" she stepped back, "You can see me?"

  
Nico and Jason exchanged a look. _Help_ , Nico tried to convey.

  
Jason stepped forward. "Yes," he said, setting his half eaten sandwich onto the coffee table. "I'm Jason Grace, and this is Nico di Angelo," he cleared his throat, "I...We can see you because uh, Nico is a vampire and I am a werewolf." 

  
He winced like his little problem was hard to admit. Jason had been mauled across the chest by another werewolf less than four months prior to their meeting; he needed guidance and Nico needed restraint. They didn't want to kill anyone else.

  
She looked from the blonde to the brunette, a range of potential reactions lingering on her face before she relaxed into a chuckle.

  
"No, no," she smiled, amber eyes glinting. "You guys are just dead like me too, right? But you didn't die here, did you?" suddenly she looked unsure.

  
"Technically, I am dead," Nico added. "But Jason is very much alive."

  
"Hmm..." she crossed her arms. "a Vampire and a werewolf...How did you two end up like...?" she gestured her hand in a circle. "Are you two together?"

  
"No." Nico said dryly.

  
"Oh. How did you both end up like this? Why can you see me?"

  
"You can't just... ask us how we turned into monsters," Nico frowned. "We don't even know your name."

  
"It's fine," Jason intervened. "I was mauled by another werewolf a few months ago and Nico died during world war two. We met each other at a hospital-- I was dying and he could smell me because of the werewolf thing. All supernatural beings can sense stuff like that."

  
He didn't mention how Jason had killed two people since the change. Or how Nico had killed three since they met-- countless in the last seventy years. It hadn't been long before they realized they could both benefit over the fact that they didn't want to die, kill or kill each other, which was uncommon amongst the ever feuding werewolves and vampires. Thus, they had become eachothers impulse control.

  
Nico swallowed. "What about you?"

  
"My name is Hazel Levesque," the ghost said with faraway eyes, "I don't know how I died."

  
"If you want to crossover... we can help you," di Angelo offered. His chest ached, suddenly.

  
Her eyes lit up. He suddenly realized how young she must have been; maybe only 18 or 19. She wore a big sweater and leggings with mismatched socks and slipper shoes. Her eyeliner was perfectly winged. There was a college nearby. Maybe she had gone there. He was reminded of how unfair the world often was. 

  
"Really? How?"

  
Jason frowned at him. A sad smile played at Nico's lips. "You're not the first ghost I've met, Hazel. But we know how."


	2. Violent Delights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico slips up and hurts someone from work.

Blood smeared over pale cheeks; stained the sheets; filled the air with a metallic taste. His breathing became rigid as the monster retreated, satisfied.. Tears began pouring from his eyes. There she lay, body paling from the blood loss and limp on the bed. Her eyes were wide and glassy. Her neck was a mess of red and black.

Nico didn't want sex. That was what she wanted-- he let it go too far. He let her get too close; and when she had straddled his lap, her perfume was too fruity and the thrum of her blood under skin was too warm. He bit her; he was so close to draining her.

Carefully, he removed himself from the bed. Jason woke up as soon as he entered the room, saw the blood in the dim hall light, and didn't even flinch. He rubbed his tired eyes and helped the brunette take one bath; a second, a third, to get all the blood off. All the while, they were quiet, because this wasn’t the first time, and it wasn’t the last.

The dark outside the small window at the top of the wall slowly grew light with a timid dawn. The blood was all gone, but Grace continued to pour steaming water over Nico, who hugged his knees to his chest. He didn’t look up into the others blue hues for fear that they would be angry or disappointed; he didn’t want to disappoint anyone else anymore. He focused on the stained porcelain off the bath, the salmon and raspberry wall tiles and his distorted reflection of pale skin and dark hair in the faucet. He could smell the blood.

Gently, Jason guided Nico’s face to look at him and rubbed  a smudge of blood from the corner of his mouth. Nico felt like crying again. The other  poured another cup of water over his black hair. Hazel appeared at the doorway, breaking the silence with a soft creaking of the wood floor.

“What happened?” her voice was small. Blood spotted  the floors and staining the side of the tub; a handprint pressed against the doorframe, shocking against the white of the wood.

Jason leaned onto his heels, soft sigh resonating. ”I don’t know how to explain this.”  He looked to di Angelo, and the other stared back, breath held. His  blue eyes were bagged and varied from confusion, to sadness, to curiosity. Nico hadn’t told him what had specifically happened. He just knew there was blood and an explanation to be told.

“I’ll get out,” the brunette said quietly, “just wait in the living room.”

They left and he rose, slipping on a thick bathrobe that belonged to Jason. He didn’t want to go back into the room for clothes. Maybe it was silly not being able to handle that sort of thing after seventy years; he’d killed a lot of people, he had seen a multitude of dead bodies; but she... wasn’t dead. He’d have to shoulder the responsibility when she awoke. That wouldn’t happen for hours or another day, if he was lucky. He’d have time to clean up the room and set her up after he talked to the ghost and the werewolf.

In the week knowing Hazel, they had hadn’t done much in terms of trying to help her cross over. It wasn’t that they were unwilling; they were often at work at the hospital and she occupied herself with making endless amounts of coffee and tea. It makes me feel normal, she would defend herself, even though she couldn't drink it.

Nico sat across from them, dark eyes flickering from him to her. They reflected his uneasiness, but dread was peeling at him on the inside. Carefully he explained what had happened; no matter how he framed the situation, he looked like a murderer. Which he was. He avoided their eyes as he spoke, focusing on the scar above Jason’s lip or the gold reflecting in Hazel’s hair, the ring on her left hand, or his crooked glasses. No matter how bad he felt, something ancient within him kept whispering praises; be proud of your strength, a lovely recruitment…

When he finished, they were quiet. Hazel bit at her thumbnail. Her brows were pulled together, lips down turned in a frown; eyes conveying both fear and pity. Jason looked away, gaze fixed on the floor.

"You guys... kill people?" she quietly asked. "As in take their lives, and--" she stopped, sighed as if she still wasn't over being dead. "And her body is..." her voice trailed.

"I have never killed anyone," Jason said. "The wolf has. There's a separation." He looked up to Nico. "Right?"

He remembered-- support went both ways.  Jason also needed him. "Of course," he bit down on his lip. "but she's... I don't think..." he paused, but there was no looking around it.  _Murderer._

Just then, there was a loud thump from the backroom.  They all stood. At the landing, a bloody, half naked girl appeared, complete terror engulfing her face.

"Lou Ellen,” he swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped towards her, hands out defensively, “let me explain.”


End file.
